Love Child Read online

  “What’s he look like?”

  “He’s missing part of his right ear and has a scar that goes from his ear down his cheek. And he has a spider tattooed on the back of his left hand.”

  “Yup, I saw him. You a lawman?” The old man continued to look suspiciously at John.

  “No. Used to be. Now I’m just a rancher. But Holloway murdered my brother-in-law’s mother. I’m here to find him and take him back to Laredo to stand trial.”

  Finally, the stableman decided he could trust John so he opened up about what he knew. “He was here two or three weeks ago. Was riding a flea-bitten grey mare.”

  “Was he alone?”

  “No. Now that you mention it, there were two other men with him. One had a fancy black hat that had a headband made out of silver pesos. The other man walked with a limp. I didn’t get their names but the man with the fancy hat was riding a bay. The man with the limp was riding a dun.”

  “How much do I owe you for the oats and stabling my horse?” asked John.

  “Four bits will cover it.” John gave him a silver dollar. “I don’t have change mister. Don’t you have any quarters?”

  “The dollar is for my horse and a thank you for the information you gave me. I learned a lot about the men I’m looking for thanks to you.”

  The old man smiled and put the silver dollar in his pocket. “If I think on it right smart, I may come up with more information.”

  John smiled at the old man and headed over to the saloon to get something to eat. Inside, he took a table in the corner and soon a waitress came to take his order. “What can I get you, Hon?”

  The woman was well past sixty and had a weathered face with deep-set eyes, heavily hooded by her eyelids, giving her a sleepy look. Her long eyelashes peaked out from under her eyelids. Over the next few minutes she told John about the menu (“steak and taters, or only steak”), her “no-account husband” who left her twenty years before, her childhood growing up in San Antonio, and her father who was a peddler of housewares (“he always came home for momma’s cooking”). John listened to her discourse until she ran out of steam. It took her all of five minutes to finish her stories and during that time she fowled the air with her colorful language.

  “So, Hon, what would you like to eat?”

  “I think I’ll take the steak and taters. And when you get that ordered, I’d be glad to buy you a beer if you would come back and visit with me.”

  Her face brightened and she batted her long lashes at John. “Well, cowboy, it’s a deal. I’ll be right back and I’ll even pour my own beer.”

  She shouted the order through an open window beside the bar, cussing like a sailor as she did. She then filled a mug with beer and went over to John’s table. “So what do you have in mind, Hon. I don’t get off work until late but I’ve been told I’m pretty good company.”

  John cleared his throat and tried to organize his thoughts. “Ma’am, I may have given you the wrong impression. I’m not after companionship. I just need a little bit of information.”

  The woman’s countenance fell for a second but she quickly recovered. “Hey, Cowboy. I knew that. You’re younger than my son.” She let out a loud laugh and a string of colorful words and then said, “So, what kind of information can ‘ol Ruby give you?”

  Another waitress brought John’s supper. He wasted no time in digging in to his steak. The jackrabbit he had that morning was long gone. But he didn’t get more than a couple of bites down before he realized Ruby was going to demand his undivided attention.

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Ruby. My name’s John. John Crudder.”

  “Well howdy, John. What can I tell you?”

  “A few weeks ago, three men came through here. They were bad men. All of them have a number of wanted posters on them.” John spent the next several minutes describing the men and telling Ruby about their past crimes and ending with the account of them murdering Marie Hanson.

  She cursed and swore as she heard about the murder of Marie. She had many choice words for the men. “And the man named Holloway; he’s rotten as a bad apple. All three of ’em were in here and Holloway got rough with me. He slapped me around. He hit me even harder than that no-account ex-husband of mine did.”

  John listened to her story and of the venomous words she had for Holloway and his companions. They told her they were working on the Dawson ranch that was just out of town. She gave John directions and then leaned into him and said, “Hon, are you sure you don’t want no company later tonight?” Then she leaned back and let out a loud laugh. John left two dollars to pay for his dinner and to tip Ruby and then headed over to the livery stable where he bedded down beside Midnight.

  When morning came, John was up before the stableman made it to work. He saddled his horse and headed out east of town to find the Dawson ranch. The directions Ruby had given him the day before were accurate and easy to follow. As Crudder left the main road to head to the ranch, he watched a small herd of deer scurry off and move out of sight. Everywhere John looked, he saw an abundance of mesquite trees and cactus. The soil was light red and sandy. Even though it was early February, the air was hot.

  The road ended at the ranch. In front of Crudder stood an arched entrance made of stone. Stone walls extended from the arch for more than one hundred yards in both directions. Clearly this was a large ranch.

  John rode through the arch and took the wagon road about a quarter mile. Though Midnight wanted to run, Crudder didn’t want to call attention to his presence. Ahead, John saw a large stone house and a corral made of stone. There were two unpainted wooden barns and another structure that looked like it might be a bunkhouse or dining hall.

  Crudder swung down and tied Midnight to the hitching rail in front of the bunkhouse. Inside, John discovered the building had no interior walls. Bunks were set up on the perimeter of the room and there were tables in the middle. A few hands were milling around, finishing their meals. John carefully looked at the men but saw none of them fit the description of Holloway or his accomplices. He walked up to one of the men who had just finished his meal.

  “Where can I find the foreman?” asked Crudder.

  Looking John over carefully, the man pointed to an older gentleman that was lying on a bunk, propped up on pillows, drinking coffee. The man was wearing one boot and had a splint made of thin strips of wood on his other leg.

  “Howdy,” said John as he removed his hat. “Are you the foreman?”

  “I am if you’re lookin’ for a job.” The man took a longer look at John and continued. “My, but you’re a little feller. That don’t matter none. If you want a job, you got one. Get you somethin’ to eat and go outside and look for Claude. He’ll get you lined out.”

  “I thank you kindly for the offer of a job but I’m not lookin’ for work. I’m lookin’ for somebody.”

  The old cowboy set down his tin cup and stuck out his hand. “Name’s Colby. I’m foreman and until yesterday, I was the hardest workin’ cowboy on the Dawson Ranch.”

  John shook Colby’s hand. “Name’s John Crudder. What happened to your leg?”

  “I got throwed. Ain’t no horse never throwed me before yesterday. But some nitwit threw a rattlesnake at my horse. I got throwed and then my own horse stomped me trying to get to the snake.”

  “That’s just mean,” said John. “Wasn’t he afraid of getting snake bit himself?”

  “Nah. Found out later the snake was dead. The blame fool said he was just playin’ a little joke and wanted to see what I’d do. Well, I’ll tell you what I did. I fired him on the spot. And I fired his two friends who were in on it and were laughing as my horse stomped me.”

  John’s ears immediately perked up. “Was the man’s name Holloway?”

  “It shor was. How on earth could you have known that?”

  “’Cause I’m huntin’ Holloway. He murdered the mother of a friend of mine in Laredo a few weeks ago. He usually travels with two men named Gomez and Atkins.”

&n
bsp; “That’s them. All three men are of no-account. If I wasn’t so short of hands, I never would have hired ’em.”

  “How long have they worked here?” asked Crudder.

  “Must be nigh onto two months. At first, I was tickled to get three new hands at once. We have more beef than we can care for now. But I soon realized they were lazy and shiftless. They were just looking for a place to stay and grub to eat. It was like they needed a place where they could hide for a while.”

  “That sounds exactly like what they were doin’,” said John. “All three men are wanted for robbin’ banks as well as cattle rustlin’ and horse theft. There is a string of people who have died as they committed their crimes. You’re lucky they’re not around here any more.”

  “You’re right about that,” said Colby. “And they could of caused right smart trouble ‘round here. All they would have had to do was to take out a few of the hands and then they could have stolen Dawson’s whole herd.”

  “Any idea where they went when they left here?”

  “No. And I don’t care. So long as they are not around me, I don’t care where they went.”

  “Do you think they kept goin’ north or would they’ve turned back to Laredo?”

  “Young feller, I told you I don’t know.”

  “I’m sorry Mr. Colby. I just want to catch ’em before they kill someone else.” John clamped his hat back on and said, “Thanks for the information. I’m glad you weren’t hurt any worse.”

  “Crudder, go get you something to eat before you get goin’. There’s still some breakfast left. You’re not wasting time by eatin’. A body’s got to have food.”

  “Thank you kindly, sir. I’m much obliged.” John walked over to what was left of the breakfast and got several spoonfuls of scrambled eggs, bacon, and a couple of biscuits. He pulled the biscuits apart and poured gravy over them. After grabbing a cup of coffee, he took his plate to a nearby table and hurriedly cleaned his plate. When he was through, he went back and filled his plate again.

  He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. John smiled to himself as he remembered neglecting his supper the night before when Ruby was intent on flirting with him. He felt he escaped a very awkward situation when he left most of his steak and said good-bye to Ruby.

  As John was finishing his meal, Colby hobbled on his crutches over to John. “Young feller, you have a powerful appetite. And I’ve got a feelin’ you’re a top hand. You do work on a ranch, don’t you?”

  Swallowing and taking yet another bite, John responded. “Yup. Work on the H&F in Bandera.”

  “Shor wish you could work here a while. I’ve taken a likin’ to you. After you find Holloway and his bunch, if you want a job, there’ll be one waitin’ for you.”

  “Thanks all the same. But my wife and daughters are back on the H&F waitin’ for me to get home.”

  “I never heard of a cowboy having his family livin’ on the ranch where he works. How’d that happen? You the foreman or somethin’?”

  “No,” replied John. “My wife is the daughter of the ranch owner.”

  The old man doubled over laughing. “Boy, that’s a good one. You shor found a way to get in good with the boss. More power to you, son.” Colby continued laughing as John completed his meal.

  There were times in John’s life when he would have taken offense to the old man’s words. But he knew Colby meant no harm. And John laughed to himself as he thought of the situation and how close he had grown to Slim, even before marrying his daughter.

  John wished Colby well with his leg and went outside and mounted Midnight. As he headed back to the main road, he wondered which way he would turn when he left there. Would he go left and head back into Laredo or turn right and head to the next town? By the time the road he was on met up with El Camino Real, he knew he needed to keep heading north so he turned right and let Midnight run for about fifteen minutes before reining him back to a lope.

  He had often wondered about the limit to Midnight’s endurance. So far he knew that Midnight had more stamina than any horse he had ever heard of. He recalled once a couple of years before when he had gone from Bandera to San Antonio and back on the same day—a distance of over a hundred miles. And he recalled Midnight was a bit winded but didn’t seem to be overly tired.

  Even though would like to let Midnight run as much as he wanted, he also knew the mighty horse would be better off to take a more measured pace. Before he found Holloway, John knew he might be calling on Midnight to push his limits. Little did he know that time was fast approaching.

  Chapter 14

  COTULLA RANCH

  John Crudder continued north heading back down the road he traveled only a few days before. He allowed Midnight to lope most of the way. But every time they passed a stream or a lake, John would stop and let Midnight rest, drink water, and graze for a few minutes.

  Toward evening, he neared the Cotulla Ranch and remembered the wonderful meal he had there earlier. John’s plan was to stay the night and then keep heading north the next morning. As John got to the ranch, he pulled up in front of the dining hall. Sure enough, it looked like supper was just being served.

  John tied Midnight to the hitching rail and went inside. Just inside the door, he heard Cotulla’s unmistakable voice.

  “John! Johnny boy!” Joseph Cotulla’s polish accent was very much in evidence. “What are you doin’ back here so soon? No matter. It’s time to eat. Get yourself a plate and come join me.”

  John waved at Cotulla with his hat and walked over to get in line behind the ranch hands. When he got to the head of the line, he found to his surprise, fried chicken was on the menu. He had just assumed with it being a cattle ranch, most of the meals would be steak.

  As John held out his plate to get served, the big man who was serving up chicken turned toward John. He was well over six feet tall and had a huge potbelly that was a good advertisement for his cooking. John recalled the cook’s name was Mo and Joe saying he was the most popular man on the ranch. Mo was wearing a bright red plaid shirt covered by a dirty white apron.

  He spoke to John. “I heard Joe call you Johnny boy. You’re the same John that a few days ago came through and ate three helpings of my apple cobbler.”

  John was embarrassed as he recalled all that he ate that night. “Well, I guess that was me. Sorry I ate so much. I was powerful hungry.”

  Mo brought his big arm around and slapped John hard on his arm. John’s plate went flying. Fortunately, the plate was made of tin so it made noise as it contacted the floor but it did no damage. Mo laughed and patted John twice more on the arm.

  “I like to see cowboys eat. No apology needed. I hope you’ve got a good appetite for fried chicken. I got plenty of it. And I’ve got mashed taters and green beans. But I’m sorry; got no cobbler tonight. All I’ve got for dee-sert is ‘nana puddin’. You ever had ‘nana puddin’?”

  “No, sir. Can’t say I have. What is it?”

  Mo let out a loud laugh at John’s question. “Hey boys, young John here ain’t never had ‘nana puddin’. Where you been all your life boy? New York City?”

  “Well—actually, I have spent most of my life in New York. Only been in Texas a few years.”

  Mo laughed again. “That explains it. Anyone that’s really Texan to the core, knows ‘nana puddin’ as well as he does apple cobbler.”

  “All right. You’ve got me. I’m from New York and I’ve never had ‘nana puddin’. Tell me what’s in it. I’m sure I’ll like it.”

  Mo went on to give John a quick recipe. “You cut ‘nanas up and put them in a bowl with little sugar wafers. You mix in puddin’ made from milk, egg yolks, sugar, and butter. Cook it up, add a little vanilla extract. Pour it all together with the ‘nanas and the sugar wafers and keep it in the oven ’til supper is over. I like to serve it hot. That’s the best way to eat it.”

  John picked up his plate and let Mo fill it with chicken and all the fixings, then took his plate over to join Joseph. “Hello, Mr. Cotu
lla. Thanks kindly for feedin’ me again.”

  “Did you forget. I’m just Joe. Not Mr. Cotulla.” John nodded as he attacked a chicken leg. “I see you met Mo.” Cotulla laughed at the meeting. “And Mo gave you a ribbin’ about not knowing about ‘nana puddin’. You are in for a treat tonight.”

  “Actually, Joe, I didn’t know what a ‘nana was. Then I realized he was talkin’ about bananas. I’ve been pretty successful at getting New York out of my voice but there are still some things in Texas that I have yet to experience.”

  “So what brings you back here so soon?” asked Joe.

  “I’m lookin’ for some men. The leader is a man named Holloway. He’s missin’ part of his ear and has a spider tattoo on his left hand.”

  “I’ll bet the other men your lookin for are named Gomez and Atkins.”

  “That’s right! You mean they’re here?” John was excited that his hunt might be over.

  “No, son, they ain’t here but they’ve been here. They was here probably a year ago. They’re no good. All three of ’em. I run ’em off ’cause all they did was cause trouble and eat grub. Now I don’t mind hands eatin’ and eatin’ a lot. But I do mind men eatin’ who don’t work. The Good Book says, ‘If any man would not work, neither should he eat.’ That’s from Second Thessalonians, chapter three, verse ten.”

  John paused realizing he had a pile of chicken bones in his plate and he was just finishing another thigh. Joe saw him pause and laughed.

  “I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout you. You work. And the work you’re doin’ now, lookin’ for those worthless cowboys, that’s good work.

  John took a deep breath and resumed eating his chicken. “How long did that bunch work for you?”

  “Not more than a couple of months.” Joe paused as he gathered his thoughts. “I never felt good about them three. I was afraid they were no good when I met them but I believe in givin’ a man a chance to prove himself. And I gave ’em about two months ’til I realized they weren’t gonna change. They were long on talk, eager to fight, and hungry all the time. And they only worked half-way. They were always the last to go to work and the first to quit. And any time there was a new job, you’ve never heard anyone complain like those three. The worst part is they were rubbin’ off on the other hands. Anyone they were around seemed to get lazier and lazier so I fired all three of the worthless lot. Why are you lookin’ for ’em?”